


Voltron Short Stories

by 5ColorsInMyLife



Series: Voltron Short Stories [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Feels, Pre-Season/Series 06, Shiro (Voltron) is a Mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:08:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22266142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5ColorsInMyLife/pseuds/5ColorsInMyLife
Summary: A Collection of Voltron Short Stories that I'll be meaning to update 'regularly'.
Series: Voltron Short Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603855
Kudos: 3





	Voltron Short Stories

There was a voice, at times. 

One no one else reacted to.  
One, he figured, only he could hear.   
It usually came at night, when he had long since given into sleep, only for it to wake him without a warning. There was never any confusion possible; it couldn’t belong to any haunting dream, simply because he didn’t dream. 

There was a voice; one that always called his name.  
It invited him along in the dark, when the entire Castle was already sound asleep and with only the engines still running, a low hum continuously echoing through the ship. He would be alarmed, but not a single thought ever actually came to him, and so, he would follow it out of his room. The Castle was silent, but the lights would still automatically turn on at his presence.  
  
_Shiro._  
  
There was _something_ in the dark, at the end of the corridor. It beckoned him away from his room, from his friends, and into the darkness with it. It didn’t feel wrong to give into it, and while the lights still did what they could for him, he wanted them to forget about him. Forget that he was there, and let the voice guide him instead.  
  
_Shiro..._  
  
The whispers grew with every step he took away from his friends. He heard the muttering voices laugh at him, maybe even at the lights which began to flicker; if the Castle hoped to warn him through them in any way, those attempts were simply overlooked. Because there was _something_ in the dark, at the end of the corridor, and he needed to know what it was.  
  
He turned around the corner, and the lights no longer switched on before him. He noticed a set of doors to his right and knew that that was where he needed to be. The voice died down as he walked towards it, but it didn’t matter. It was there, he could feel it. So close, behind that door. He couldn’t see anything through the thick glass, but he only had to press a button for the door to slid open, the noise it made briefly interrupting the general silence as he made his way inside and it closed right behind him. The room was small with another, more solid door at the other end.

Something was there, but not where he had expected.

“Shiro.”

This time, the voice came from behind him. He turned around, a haunting smile carved on a familiar face; his own image. He was there, on the other side of the door, right outside the airlock. Watching him with that cruel glint in his eyes.

A countdown began, but Shiro knew better than to plead. He seemed to understand the cruelty behind it like it had always been his own. it must have been dormant this whole time, until it found an opportunity to turn against him. The realisation had him frozen with horror.

But there was a voice, again. One that yelled his name.

It was louder than the countdown, louder than the sound of his own racing heart. It tried to pull him away from his own distorted shadow on the other side of the glass door, even if _he_ wouldn’t so easily let him escape.

“SHIRO!”

He closed his eyes, automatically bringing his hands to his ears to block the noise, but a strong grip around his wrists stopped him instead.

“Shiro, stop! It's me!”

The audible distress in the voice caught him off guard and Shiro opened his eyes, his two hands held firmly in place against someone else’s chest. In the semi-darkness of the room, he recognised Keith’s face ridden with concern. His blanket was still covering the lower half of his body as he suddenly sat up, breathing heavily. He took in his surroundings, but most importantly, he focused on the one face that helped him understand and make out what was real and what wasn’t.

“Are you okay?” Shiro swallowed thickly as Keith gently let go of his hands. He raised one to his own chest, scared by the rapid beating of his heart. He let out a sigh and faintly nodded, leaning his forehead against the palm of his hand.

 _A Nightmare after all._ However unlikely.

“You’ve been through a lot.”

Shiro could tell by Keith’s tone that he meant to reassure him even if he didn't know the cause of such alarm from him, usually so self-composed, and wouldn't insist either. But he stood up, maybe too soon for Shiro's liking, and only leaned closer to rest a hand on Shiro’s shoulder.

“Try to get some sleep. I'll be in the next room.”

He would have liked to add something, but Keith was long gone by the time he could even remember how to put a coherent string of words together. The door slid closed again, and the darkness came back. He heard Keith’s footsteps fade slowly as he lay back, eyes locked onto the empty ceiling.

“Nothing.” He reassured himself. “There is nothing here.”

He closed his eyes, not knowing if sleep would come to him again so soon, but it was worth a try.

But if he listened more closely... He could hear the echo of a voice.

Faint and distant for the time being,

Sly and patient as it knew to be... until it was time to call him again.


End file.
